


I'll Steal Bases Like I'll Steal Your Heart

by NotASmoothOperator



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst and Humor, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Highschoolstuck, Homestuck - Freeform, Humanstuck, Illustrations, M/M, Teen Angst, baseballstuck, more to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASmoothOperator/pseuds/NotASmoothOperator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not quite the ideal rom-com a young man wished to live through.<br/>In fact, it was the complete opposite… and held a lot more concussions than he had thought could happen within a single season of baseball.<br/>This is Karkat Vantas and this is not even his own story.<br/>It’s filled with three baseball teams and a girls’ softball team in fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: This Great Thing Called Baseball

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the prologue I usually write more but I'll update soon. Hang in there with me babies this is my kickstart to my spring break. Feel free to critique and suggest. And I play softball but watch baseball if I slip up and do a softball rule excuse me. BaseballStuck ftw.

This is not quite the ideal rom-com a young man wished to live through.

In fact, it was the complete opposite… and held a lot more concussions than he had thought could happen within a single season of baseball.

This is Karkat Vantas and this is not even his own story.

It’s filled with three baseball teams and a girls’ softball team in fact.

-  
“GOG, our school is ghetto.” A freckled, fiery red-head grumbled as his seven foot friend shook his head with a dazed smile.

“Nah, brother, just look at that cool man giving some money to that poor bum over there!”

“Gamzee, you complete moron, that’s a fucking _drug deal_.” The red-head smacked Gamzee’s arm and huffed away.

“Oh…” Gamzee waved to the two before holding a thumbs up at them. Gamzee was only slightly confused when they both sprinted off.

Catching up with his friend he managed to catch the end of his rant,

“And every tile of this school is so nicotine-fucking-stained it matches our school colors _piss ass yellow and mucus fucking green_.”

“I thought they did that on purpose…” The angry little man snapped his head up to Gamzee’s.

“You’re a fucking lost cause… wait shouldn’t you’re drugged-rotten brain recognize a _drug deal_ for fucks sake-?!”

“Karbro, I grow and make my own stuff, and I give to those poor souls that need a pick me up.”

“You’re. A. Fucking. Stoned. Moron.”

“Yeah… but at least I have you, brother.” Gamzee smiled, pulling in his short friend for a hug. Karkat sighed, patting his friend’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m glad I have you, rotten brains or not.” Karkat mumbled. “Now put me the fuck _down_.”

And it was only first period.

-

By the end of the school-day, Karkat had only had two major freak outs not only a record but a blessing to his teachers’ eardrums.

Karkat just couldn’t wait for the school-day to be over with and to hit the baseball field.

So, as usual, Karkat watched the clock hit two minutes before the bell would ring and left his classroom.

Those two minutes gave the short man to abuse his locker and hustle out of the doors before the final bell rang.

There, outside, Karkat met up with Gamzee, who probably never even went to his seventh period class.

“Ready for a miraculous practice today, Karbro?” Gamzee chuckled, earphones blasting some bullshit that only maybe three potheads listened to in the entire universe.

“Actually, yes, because at least on the field I don’t have to hear that horseshit music of yours.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, brother.”

Karkat rolled his eyes and opened up the gates to the ball-field.

“Let’s just get changed before Coach gets here and has to embarrass himself with trying to be stern.”

“Oh, yeah… that poor brother.”

“Jesus Christ, Gamzee-! Find a new phrase to say!” Karkat bellowed as they both entered the changing room.

Practice would start as soon as a green jeep pulled up and a college student with a green baseball cap yelled a,

“Hey-Ho, little fellows!”

And then Karkat’s official day would start.


	2. This Horrible Thing Called College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jake let's himself be played and Dirk thinks he's smooth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was kinda rushed but I'll post a longer and more thought-out chapter soon! Hang in there!

A certain coach to a high school baseball team, that according to some was ‘ghetto’, was running late to practice once again.

Although, at the moment the coach seems to be napping within his college class and too busy to remember such a thing.

“Jake English, would you like to stay after class to have a nice little chat with me?” Jake’s head snapped up to look into his Lit professor’s angered gaze.

A snort erupted from the back of the room.

“Ah, you as well Mr. Strider.” Their professor tutted.

“ _Fuck_.” Came as an answer from the back.

Jake refrained from laughing at Strider as many of their peers didn’t. Probably because they were not within their rivalry that has been going on since freshman year of high school when they were on opposing teams but on the same travel baseball team.

Jake huffed and began angry doodling of Strider getting hit in the face by a baseball bat. But soon his lead couldn’t take the ferocious scribbling and snapped, at that point in time Jake slammed his pencil down and sighed. A glance to his watch and Jake’s heart dropped.

He was going to be so darn late to the boys’ practice, _again_. Jake felt bad but what else could he do?

Pay attention in this horrid class?

Hell no!

Rubbing his face and knocking his glasses to the side, Jake glanced behind him to observe how Strider was taking his added time.

As expected, the man’s face was stotic and his arms crossed in disapproval but it just so happened that Strider was staring right back at Jake.

Jake jumped, before hurriedly turning around.

What was that man’s problem-?

Making the one and only Jake English feel as if he’s always a step behind, as if he’s the most awkward being to walk the Earth!

Golly, how Jake hated the way he made Jake stop in his tracks or lose track of his thoughts.

“Jaaaaaaakeyyyyy, why are you blushing like that?” Cooed his friend Roxy, who, unfortunately, sat between himself and Strider. Strider hummed triumphantly upon hearing Roxy’s nonsense cooing.

“You know, English, if you play your cards right at the next game you’ve got yourself a hot date.” Strider hummed cockily.

“Ohhhhhhh, I totes magotes ship that.” Roxy replied cheerfully, tapping her fingernails on her desk excitedly.

“Roxy, are you intoxicated-?” Jake uttered, wide-eyed in disbelief.

Roxy shook her head solemnly, “Not till five, sweetcheeks.”

“Then where in blazes did that come from-?”

“Oh, sweet stuff, you two would be the cutest! What with your ‘rivalry’-“ She air-quoted obnoxiously, “since high school!” Jake furrowed his eyebrows at Roxy, earning him a pat on the cheek.

“C’mon, Jakeyyyyy.” Jake flushed hotter and shot a glance up at Strider.

The smirk and air-blown kiss sent his way caused a struggled cry of alarm from Jake.

“He just knows that his team will lose _again_ , is all, Rox.” Drawled Strider from his seat.

Jake’s back stiffened, he knew that Strider was just trying to gain a rise out of him but that was low and Strider knew that!

“It’s just too bad his cute little cousin didn’t even want to be on his team and instead chose mine.” Strider scoffed.

Okay, that was _it_.

“Strider I swear I’ll kick your ass!” Jake slammed on his desk and turned, facing the smirking Strider.

The classroom was silent for all of five seconds before-

“ENGLISH!” Jake winced violently. “SIT DOWN AND BE PREPARED TO SPEND YOUR AFTERNOON WITH ME!” Jake nodded, sitting back and wishing he could just sink into the floor.

When the bell rang Jake and Strider stayed put.

“Strider, you can just go ahead and clean up the white board and leave…” Strider saluted and sauntered his way down to the front of the room, humming obscenely enough to pass off for Lucy.

Just not in the loveable way.

“And you, English, you may stay and write me a nice essay on today’s lesson.”

With the way that Strider’s shoulders shook, he was either convulsing into oblivion or laughing his ass off.

“O-oh, yes, Professor…” Jake felt hot enough to melt skin as his professor gave him a knowing gaze. Jake had only just pulled out a clean sheet of paper to begin his punishment, when Strider passed him on his way to grab his things and take leave. Jake felt Strider stop for a moment and watch him before Jake looked up to him.

“What."

Strider shoved a folded piece of paper into his hoodie’s pocket, Jake’s protest hadn’t even made it all the way out before Strider had abscond from the room.

“Tick-Tock, Mr. English.” Came a friendly reminder to the opened-mouthed boy.

With a jolt, Jake set to work on his exaggerated bullshitery that would be his essay.

He just really hoped the little Vantas brother would be able to retain himself during his hold-up.

...

Jake was in for the tantrum of a life-time.

Much unlike Strider’s scotch-free ass.

In fact, Strider was quite pleased as his rusted Chevy pick-up peeled out of the college campus.

Not only had he been able to stick it to Jake but he’d also been able to slip the man his number.

_Damn he was smooth._

Strider smirked, if his knowledge in Jakeology was as vast as he’d believed it was, Strider would be defiantly be receiving an angry text from English.

Within minutes, Strider pulled up to South Alternia High School’s baseball field just in time to see his little brother warming up on the mound. He pulled on his orange cap and stepped out extravagantly,

“Ready for some ball, rainbow sprites?”

A symphony of groans met Strider’s ears,

“Really, Dirk? Rainbow sprites?” Dave scoffed. "Old man..."

“Yes, _really_ , now gimme four laps.”

Strider chose to ignore his younger brother’s language as he dropped his glove and began his laps around the ball-field. Instead, he glanced over to the catcher of his team.

And took a double take.

“John, what the _fuck_ sat on your face?”

The bubbly cousin of his rival let out a peel of nervous laughter,

“Ahw it’s nothing, Coach! I can still see just fine out of my eye and it doesn't bother me, really, so no worries!” John poked at his black eye lightly to prove his point.

Dave jogged by him, still on his first lap,

“He got in a hella sweet fight, man…”

“Dave, no-!” John whined out.

“with his locker.”

John frowned and flipped Dave off.

Strider would have found this hilarious if it hadn’t happened to John multiple times already.

“Dave that’s not sprinting.”

“And you’re not my dad.”

“That’s right, I’m your mother now get a fucking move on before I decide on a late abortion.”

Dave rolled his eyes but began running at a faster pace.

“John get up and run the rest of Dave’s laps with him.”

“ _What_?! Why?!” John yelped.

“Because you ran into your locker for the tenth time this year, you dork, now move.” Dirk clapped his hands impatiently.

John slowly picked himself up, groaning,

“ 'snt my fault.”

Dirk watched the two boys for a few more seconds before turning to the prima-donna mess of a dugout that was his team.

_Where was Axe hair gel on a fishing rod when you needed it?_


End file.
